Those left behind
by sisno2200
Summary: How would everybody who got left behind in the real world react when the hero of pokemon mystery dugeon vanished never to return? One shot


Author's note: I was just thinking about Pokémon mystery dungeon the other day and the ending got me thinking. How would everybody who got left behind by the hero in the real world react when they vanished never to return? So I decided to write a short one shot expressing their feelings. The identity of the hero isn't given and the story is gender neutral (besides the mother and the father) so that everyone can relate it to themselves and their own friends/family. So next time you think it would be boss to get transported to the Pokémon world spare a thought for those would get left behind.

Those left behind

Best friend

One day you vanished in the night. No one knows where you went just one day you were there and the next you were gone. The police think you might have run away but generally runaways have a reason. You never told me that there was anything wrong. Surely you'd tell your best friend if you had a problem? Or was it that you didn't trust me enough? Couldn't you have left a note? A text? Or something…

I visit your family sometimes but it always feels awkward like I was the one who convinced you to disappear. I visit them less and less not knowing what to do. I feel like you've died sometimes although there's no evidence of any murder. Saying that there's no evidence of you running away either. The security cameras nearby didn't catch you on film plus your room seems exactly the way it was before you disappeared. No belongings packed or anything to show you might be leaving. Why didn't you tell me you were planning to leave? I thought I was your best friend... now… well I don't know what to think.

Mother

Was it something I did? Nagging you too much? I promise if you come home now I'll make you your favourite food and pamper you all day if it shows you how much I care. Or were you fed up of being pampered? They think me and your father did something to drive you out. We had our fair share of arguments but that's expected we can't always get along. But you never seemed too unhappy. The police once took us in for questioning. I think they thought we'd done something terrible to you. The nerve of them thinking that I'd hurt my own child! I know that it does happen… but you know I'd never intentionally hurt you. I can't bear to look at your room sometimes. Seeing it causes me to tear up at the memory of losing my child. Sometimes late at night when I can't sleep (something that is now a common occurrence now) I go into your room and sit on your bed and cry. I walk around and see all the little things that remind me of you. Your favourite book as a child. Some films stacked in an untidy pile. And that game you always play… what is it called? Puchémon?

Your father's taken it the worst I think… he never used to drink and now... he hardly ever stops. But… he almost attacked us (me and your sibling that is) in a drunken rage a few nights ago. He burst into tears before could hurt anybody but I think it shook us all up quite badly. Now he's attending an alcoholics meeting to try and kick the habit but it's a hard battle. Even now he's out drinking to forget the pain for a few hours. I lift up your pillow and bring it to my face trying to remember your scent and your warmth. But all that I can detect are the warm salty tears following down my face.

Father

I lifted the bottle to my lips before sighing and placing it back on the table. Nothing I did worked. I could still see your face smiling at me. Or your angry face when I took away your favourite game as punishment. Ever since my loss of control to alcohol my family hasn't been the same. I can see it in your mother's eyes that she's afraid of me and your sibling… my last child left… wants nothing to do with me. Did I fail you as a father? I thought I could support them when you vanished but it's too much. We thought we found you a few weeks ago… your body I mean. When we found out it wasn't you… I had mixed feelings I'm ashamed to admit. Its great knowing that there's a chance you still might be alive don't get me wrong! But… we still have to wait unknowing what's happened to you. That's the truly agonising part. We have no idea if you're alive or dead. I hope you're safe somewhere but… I have nightmares of you being tortured somewhere... or on the street as a drug addict... or as someone I pass by everyday pleading for money which I don't give….

I hate feeling so helpless. I hear your mother crying in your bedroom late at night but I can't comfort her for fear I might hurt her…. And your sibling well that's a whole other story… My family is being torn apart and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I sighed once more and raised the bottle to my lips.

Sibling

Everyone always seems to be shouting at me now. I can't seem to concentrate on anything… I can't eat without throwing up and I can't sleep properly anymore…. And to think that I used to joke that I would be happier without you! Well who's laughing now? I feel like I'm upsetting our parents just by being here sometimes Mother comes downstairs and sees me sitting at the table alone. Then she runs upstairs crying thinking that I can't hear her. And I pretend that I don't. I rarely ever see Father anymore… he's always out. My friends they are all sympatric obviously…but none of them seem to understand and it gets me frustrated which in turn makes my friends turn away. I see your best friend sometimes but we rarely speak to each other.

I plug in my headphones to try and drown out the world. No one acknowledges me and I don't acknowledge anyone. Maybe I should run away as well…


End file.
